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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567907">After Work</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy'>TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hartcroft [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingsman (Movies), Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Multi, Poly, everyone is cuddly, everyone is sleepy, this is soft and softer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:35:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re all tired and sleepy and soft.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Hart/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Harry Hart, Mycroft Holmes/Harry Hart/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hartcroft [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>After Work</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mycroft dropped his coat on the floor next to his briefcase. He’d reached out to hang it up, but the energy had left him halfway, as soon as he’d closed the door behind him, all tension was gone. With an undignified and undefinable noise he put both hands over his eyes. His head was swimming. He needed to sleep, probably. But his skin was crawling and his mind was racing. Back in the days he would’ve downed three glasses of scotch and fallen dead into bed, but thankfully these times were behind him.</p><p>“Harry?” he called out.</p><p>His voice couldn’t have been very loud, and yet footsteps approached. Mycroft looked ahead with weary eyes to see his partner appear in the hallway, looking warm and inviting in his cream coloured jumper and dark trousers.</p><p>“My… You look dreadful.”</p><p>“Charmer,” Mycroft replied. “But you’re right. I feel dreadful.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me you were awake for the whole three days?”</p><p>“I got some naps in here and there.”</p><p>Harry shook his head. He picked up the coat and the briefcase and put them on a table. Then he kneeled before Mycroft.</p><p>“Foot,” he said and held out his hands.</p><p>Mycroft was a bit shaky, but he held out his left foot for Harry to take off his shoe, then repeated the effort with the other. Without warning Harry swooped him off his feet and into his arms. Mycroft let out a gasp of surprise and clung to Harry’s shoulders as he was carried like a princess through the narrow corridor. They’d all moved into Harry’s townhouse for now. It was larger than it looked from the outside, central… and Mycroft thought it incredibly charming, down to the pinned butterflies.</p><p>“Is Gregory home?” Mycroft asked, face buried in Harry’s neck, breathing in his cologne—the scent of which made him feel calm and safe, already let the tension bleed out of him.</p><p>“Not yet. They’re celebrating the end of the Harrison case. You know he likes to indulge his team when they’ve earned it.”</p><p>“I know, yes. He’s sweet like that.”</p><p>“That he is,” Harry confirmed, bestowing a light kiss on Mycroft’s head. “You want to go upstairs? Bed?”</p><p>“What were you doing?”</p><p>“Just a spot of reading in the living room. Bit of brandy. The usual.”</p><p>Mycroft snuggled closer. “May I join you? Can’t promise I’ll stay awake, though.”</p><p>“Any time, darling.”</p><p>Mycroft was deposited on the large sofa with utmost care, allowing Harry to take off his suit jacket, trousers and socks. He took a fluffy blanket from the armchair and put it over Mycroft’s legs. The air in the room was warm enough even though it was November, but he knew that Mycroft would feel more at ease with the blanket. He craved softness and security. Mycroft smiled dreamily up at Harry as he refilled his glass and held it out in an invitation. Every small gesture Harry made felt like a declaration of love. Mycroft took the glass, then a large sip. The alcohol burned down his throat as it always did on the first taste, warming him up even further.</p><p>“I love you,” he said as he returned the glass.</p><p>Harry beamed, sat down next to him. He put his arms around Mycroft and brought their mouths together. The kiss was hot as always, but also unhurried, gentle and loving. Mycroft melted under his attention until he had his head in Harry’s lap, fingers fisted in the soft jumper.</p><p>“I love you too,” Harry said and brushed the hair from Mycroft’s forehead. “Comfortable?”</p><p>Mycroft turned properly on his back, leaning his face against Harry’s stomach. “Exceedingly.”</p><p>“I’m glad. You mind if I read a bit more? It’s an exciting bit. They’re on the run from the henchmen army.”</p><p>Mycroft laughed. “When will you stop reading these dreadful spy novels?”</p><p>“When you stop watching those outdated noir films.”</p><p>“Touché,” Mycroft replied.</p><p>“Good night, sweetheart.”</p><p>“Good night, my dear. And thank you.”</p><p>“Nothing to thank me for.”</p><p>——————————</p><p>Greg was as silent as he could be as he arrived at home. It was still weird to go to this house, the change of routine, but he wouldn’t be anywhere else. An hour earlier he’d gotten a text from Harry, urging him to be quiet upon his return. He slipped out his jacket and shoes, tiptoed toward the living room, where there was still light.</p><p>The sight that welcomed him threatened to make his heart burst. He still couldn’t fully believe that these two amazing men had taken him into their home and their heart. Harry sat on one end of the sofa, book in one hand, the other playing with Mycroft’s hair, who was sleeping soundly with his head in Harry’s lap. Harry looked up when Greg remained at the door, put the book aside and waved him over. They shared a kiss, Greg leaning down to meet him.</p><p>“Did you have a nice night?” Harry asked in a whisper.</p><p>“Brilliant,” Greg answered just as low. “Still, better now that I’m here.”</p><p>“Flatterer.”</p><p>“Maybe. Still true. How’s Mycroft?”</p><p>“Dead tired.”</p><p>Greg smiled. “Still needed to be close.”</p><p>“I don’t mind.”</p><p>“Oh, I wouldn’t either. Room for one more?”</p><p>Harry laughed. “Go ahead.”</p><p>Greg made quick work of his clothes, finally standing in front of Harry with just his shirt and pants. He raised the blanket and slipped under it, wrapping his arms around Mycroft, who went willingly into them, burying himself in Greg with a content sigh.</p><p>“You smell like a pub,” he mumbled against Greg’s shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry, sweet. I can shower…”</p><p>“No,” Mycroft said and held Greg closer. “Stay.”</p><p>“Your wish is my command.”</p><p>They entangled their legs under the blanket, both heads now using Harry’s legs as a pillow. Greg closed his eyes in contentment as the warmth from Mycroft seeped into his body, as Harry petted him under his chin, where he liked it most. He’d always jokingly compared Greg to a cat.</p><p>“I swear if I have to carry you both to bed later…”</p><p>“Then what?” Greg asked.</p><p>Harry sighed and let his finger run down Greg’s nose. “Then you’ll have to make me waffles in the morning.”</p><p>“Can be arranged…” Greg said and yawned.</p><p>He shifted a bit, so that he lay lower, his head on Mycroft’s chest. Mycroft’s fingers went into his hair, playing with it sleepily. Greg made a content humming sound and fell asleep, floating blissfully.</p><p>—————————</p><p>Harry closed his book after one more hour. The ending had been… well… Mycroft always told him that he shouldn’t compare his own job to the novels, but he couldn’t help himself most of the time. He downed the last measure of brandy and looked down on his two lovers, who were cuddled up next to him.</p><p>Not only Mycroft, who was a singularly special man, but also Greg… who was kind, down to Earth, funny and most of all respectful and loving. Harry had expected to like him—hadn’t been prepared for how quickly he’d come to love him. He wouldn’t change this for the world.</p><p>With utmost care he extracted himself from the pile, tidied up the leftover clothes and the bottle. Then he bent over Greg’s ear and gave it a gentle kiss.</p><p>“Hey, waffle maker. Can you let go for a minute? Can’t carry you both at the same time.”</p><p>Greg made an incredibly adorable grunting sound as he woke, looked up, blinking into the low light.</p><p>“Come here,” Harry said and opened his arms.</p><p>Greg turned and did so. Harry thanked his training for the fact he could carry this man up the stairs and into their shared bed. He put him down on top of the blanket, kissing his nose.</p><p>“Sort yourself out. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Thank you. I could’ve walked.”</p><p>“I know, but you clearly didn’t want to.”</p><p>Greg gave him a broad grin, the one that made him look ten years younger. Harry couldn’t help himself and went back to kiss him properly. Greg moaned as he was pushed back into the bed.</p><p>“Harry…” he gasped as they parted.</p><p>“I know how you get after too many pints, my dear inspector. Let me pick up My before I ravish you.”</p><p>“Mhmm… hurry.”</p><p>“Demanding little shit,” Harry said fondly.</p><p>He walked back down, to where Mycroft had once again turned on his back, snoring softly. He chuckled. So dignified when he was awake… all over the place when he was asleep. Perfect. He removed the blanket, then scooped Mycroft up into his arms. He was taller than Greg, but so much lighter. All skin and bones, with how he trained. But Harry was also betting that he hadn’t had proper food during the last three days. Greg would be making a lot of breakfast tomorrow while Harry would have the privilege of feeding Mycroft bit by bit.</p><p>They arrived at the bed to find Greg passed out. Harry smiled. As expected. Not that he didn’t always want to have his hands on them, it could wait until the morning. At least Greg had managed to remove his shirt and slip under the blanket in the middle of the bed. He put Mycroft on his left side, the man waking up for a hot second, only to slip into Greg’s arms again, mumbling something unintelligible.</p><p>Harry undressed, lay in bed behind Greg, one hand on his hip, a kiss to his shoulder, letting the soft breathing of his lovers draw him down to sleep.</p>
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